


Been Wondering

by ilcocoabean



Category: Bartimaeus - Stroud
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Gen, General, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcocoabean/pseuds/ilcocoabean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bartimaeus thinks it's about time he taught Nathaniel some history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Been Wondering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelicfruicake](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=angelicfruicake).



> Written last year for the slashfest round VII.5

“Sit,” I ordered.

My master complied, crossing his legs as he did so, rolling his eyes at the grin I shot him.

“Good boy. Now today’s lesson begins with-”

“Bartimaeus don’t you have a report to give-?”

“Ah, ah, ah!” I rapped the ruler on the chalk board as I turned to him, glaring over my glasses.1 “You’ve got some history to learn today.”

The impatient scoff he gave me cheered me up a bit. So long as he was suffering a bit (not to mention pouting) I was happy.2

I rapped the board once more to get his full attention and felt an immense thrill of satisfaction when he sat up a little straighter.

“Okay we went over Egypt last time, this time we’ll turn to the Greeks-”

“Bartimaeus, you can’t be serious! We can carry this on la-” he began but I effectively shut him up with the simple question of:

“Do you want me to stop?”

He clamped his mouth shut and looked at me sullenly.3 I smiled Ptolemy’s smile and continued with my lecture.

“The Greeks are probably mostly known for their Gods and Goddesses whom they believed gave them the gift to control great beings such as myself. This assumption was of course false. Magicians back then were just as secretive as today. They- like many- tried to pass on information by mere speech.” I chuckled. “They ended up forgetting a lot and in the end magicians who didn’t forget were driven out of the city. You probably remember Aristotle right? Didn’t die like the commoners think he did. He got an afrit to save him-”

“I know all this already!” he interrupted, scowling. “I did have classes in history-”

“-Not enough.” I shot back looming forward.4 “You didn’t know a single thing about Egypt and now you do. I heard you during your little party showing off every single term I taught you.” I smirked. “you’re benefiting from this so don’t deny it”

“I wasn’t,” he snapped. “What I don’t know is how you’re benefiting from this!”

Well… I wasn’t expecting that. Kid sure had gotten a little smarter. Didn’t mean he had gotten me. Oh he had caught me off guard that was for sure but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of knowing he had done so.

“It's fun seeing you work yourself in a fit like this,” I replied easily.

He scowled for a moment and I suppose it worked because he backed off and crossing his arms looked straight ahead at the blackboard for me to continue. I did so.

“As I was saying, the Greeks...”

‡

  
I'll admit that after nearly three lessons I was beginning to get used to teaching him. It was fun watching him actually take notes during my lectures.5 It was even a little endearing the way he would raise his hand to ask questions or to repeat myself when he didn't catch something. I was a little put off though by how appreciative he was becoming though. That rarely ever happened unless he was looking for something in return.

I was right of course.

We were in the middle of our sixth lesson (on the dismal history of the America) when he asked me, “Bartimaeus I know you are a entity that's meant to be treacherous and lie when it benefits you but may I ask what's your opinion of me?”

I stared at him in silence. What had caused this sudden question? I looked him over for any signs of him meaning this as a joke. But when I saw his face I realized he was being completely honest in his inquiry. He really wanted to know. In fact looking at him now made me remember how naïve and vulnerable he'd been when we first met. He was being open with me for the first time in... years.

I felt an odd sense of wonder as I considered him and his question carefully. I honestly didn't know what to make of my master. Once I could have easily said he was stupid and determined to get himself killed- not so much anymore. He was about fifteen now and the kid had never really had a single friend, except for me.6

In a way I suppose I owed him some honesty. The kid had put me through enough hell to deserve what I thought of him:

“I think...” I paused for dramatic effect and watched in amusement as he listened eagerly. “...that you...” Another pause, boy was he really interested in my response, “are a complete and total idiot.” I crossed me arms and smirked, “satisfied?”

He scowled and shutting his book, he got up, “I think this concludes our lesson Bartimaeus I have work to do.”

I shrugged and watched him go. No one couldn't say I didn't give him the honesty he had looked for. 

* * *

  
1 I had dressed Ptolemy up to resemble a miniature professor- the ones commoners had- complete with a lab coat (unnecessary but equipped with a ball point pen in the front pocket), a suit- a good one not like the one the kid used to wear- and dashing sneakers to contrast the effect of perfect professor attire.  
2 It's schadenfreude and I am guilty of it on several occasions.  
3 Oh he was still itching to say something else but he was just as interested as last time we had a lesson. The kid still had a thirst for knowledge I’d give him that.  
4 He sure had grown quite a bit since his first days as my master. Before he would have at least leaned back a little, now he really stood his ground.  
5 Sure this was after he had begun to accept my lessons as actual help in his furthering himself in the social circles of intellectuals.  
6 And I make an excellent friend if I do say so myself. What? Don't believe me? Fine, your loss.

 


End file.
